Can I Hide in You a While?
by onecouldn'tsee
Summary: Things happened years ago that Chris Argent never mentions.  Sometimes…quiet nights, when it snows, he remembers.  He remembers the first time he lost someone to the curse.  AU.   20 years pre-show.  Oneshot.   Yes another one.   SLASH.


He blew on his shaky hands, cursing his nerves. His quick nerves that had caused him to leave home unprepared. It was cold. Scratch that. It was frigid. It was chilled bones and huddle for warmth frigid. Chris Argent thinks of the idea he used to have of California. California was a hot place with beaches and surfers. Clearly he'd never been to _Northern _California. Of course he'd never been much of anywhere at all. This was his first time really leaving home. This was his first solo assignment. Nothing exciting. Just some surveillance on a rather large pack. Examine the threat and report. Nothing more and nothing less. Of course if he could actually make it to Beacon Hills… He sighed, opaque breath puffing out. The hunk of metal at his back was useless. His old truck had finally died on him. Really he should have known driving it this far was too much. Still, the old beast had given it its best effort, making it to nearly three miles outside of town. So now Chris was leaned against the back of it, waiting for…he wasn't actually sure what he was waiting for. He supposed he'd have to walk the rest of it. After another couple moments he accepted his fate and paced around the back of the truck, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Perhaps not the best start to his assignment.

Snow was swirling in the dark sky, flinging itself shamelessly across the windshield. With a flick of his wrist Peter Hale turned on the windshield wipers, eyes scanning the road. The house was loud and joyous with hopes of snow days and snowball fights. He'd needed reprieve, however momentary it was. He passed the darkened truck first, one eyebrow raising. About half a mile later he saw the huddled silhouette, making its way along the side of the road. He slowed down and cracked his window.  
>"Headed for Beacon Hills?" he questioned. The man turned, surprised<br>"Um," he said, teeth flashing white, "yeah." Peter offered his least threatening smile.  
>"Did you want a ride? It's cold out here." The man stopped and Peter followed suit. He looked both ways up and down the road. He shivered before glancing to Peter again.<br>"Alright." He rounded the car and climbed in, settling his duffel bag in his lap. "Chris Argent," he murmured, offering his hand after shifting awkwardly.  
>"Peter Hale," Peter said in return, shaking his frigid hand quickly. He turned up the heat, which had barely been on at all. "You're not from around here."<br>"Ah, no," Chris said, "Illinois." Peter chuckled shortly.  
>"What brings you all the way out here?" <p>

"Just wanted to get some traveling in," Chris lied quickly, "I've got this whole life laid out for me. I just wanted…something else first." It was only half a lie he realized quickly.  
>"Controlling family?" Peter guessed, eyebrow lifting.<br>"Well…yeah. But it's not like I don't want it. I do."  
>"What's the job?"<br>"Uh…" Why hadn't he been ready for Peter to ask that? "Family business."  
>"Part of the mob," Peter suggested. Chris laughed, outright laughed, surprising himself.<br>"No," he confirmed, still smiling as he looked from the fogged glass to the man beside him.  
>"That's right…Argent isn't Italian," Peter added, eyes crinkling.<br>"French last I checked."  
>"So where were you headed?" Peter questioned, lights appearing ahead of them.<br>"Whichever hotel's the cheapest," Chris answered.  
>"You eat already? We've got a great bar here. Best kept secret of Northern California."<br>"Other than the snow you mean?" Peter chuckled.  
>"Other than the snow." Chris' stomach growled painfully. Other than a bag of potato chips, he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday.<br>"I should probably eat something," he said thoughtfully.

Peter was relieved to hear him say it. Chris was already proving to be an excellent distraction. He turned into the alley parking lot before cutting the engine.  
>"It's this way," he said, tilting his head to the left.<br>"Alright," Chris agreed. Did his heartbeat just spike? No. Of course not. Peter shook his head as he climbed out. He was just jumpy because Chris was cute in a wide eyed innocent sort of way…and he hadn't gotten any in a while. The wolf inside him whined slightly. Peter wondered briefly if Chris was any older than him. He didn't look it, but that didn't really mean anything anyways. Not that he should assume Chris would even be interested. Assuming things like that would only get him excited. He decided, as he pulled open the door for Chris, that he would reserve judgment on him. He was swamped with the smell of grease and smoke, beer just underneath. Altogether it should have been a nauseating combination, but Peter had been coming here for so long it was now a source of comfort. He knew people here. He was welcomed here. He was home here. Chris was already headed for the bar so Peter followed him, sliding onto one of the maroon stools easily. Chris let his elbows rest on the bar, rubbing his reddened hands together quickly.  
>"What can I get ya?" Cody questioned as he ambled over. His expression was vaguely interested. The town wasn't absolutely tiny but visitors were still something to talk about.<br>"Um," Chris let out, sliding a quick glance to Peter.  
>"Two whiskeys and two double cheeseburgers pink in the middle." Cody nodded before stepping a few feet to the left and yelling through the double doors.<br>"Two doubles rare as a compliment on your old lady's face!" Peter rolled his eyes quickly.  
>"Part of the charm," he murmured.<p>

Nearly an hour later Chris felt like a different person. He was warmed up, finally. His stomach was full of what was admittedly one of the best burgers he'd ever had. And there was Peter. Funny, nice, charming Peter. His brain sort of short circuited around him. He was barely able to come up with any sentence longer than four words. Luckily Peter did most of the talking. He told Chris about the town and some of the bar patrons. Every once in a while he'd throw in a joke.  
>"So you've lived here all your life?" Chris questioned, belatedly realizing that Peter wasn't actually talking about himself.<br>"Not really. I traveled for a while but my brother's wife keeps having children. I moved home to help out for a while. They're a bunch of little animals."  
>"So you understand the obligation of family." Peter quickly covered his wince with a smile.<br>"Too well."  
>"So you don't…have anyone?" What did that even mean? Why had he asked that? Maybe the second whiskey had gone to his head. Peter examined him for a short moment. Which was agonizing for Chris.<br>"No," he said, finishing his whiskey in a smooth sip. "You?" Chris' heart gave a little 'this is an important moment' slap and he swore he felt himself blush.  
>"Not at the moment, no." There. That made him sound…not desperate. Didn't it? Chris marveled at himself for a moment. What was wrong with him? He wasn't like this. He was quiet and reserved. He observed others around him. He didn't…throw himself into the sway of things like this. But then again Peter hadn't really given him a choice. He thought for a moment that maybe this wasn't normal for either of them. He hoped it wasn't. For a reason he didn't care to identify.<p>

Peter spun his empty glass on the bar, smiling as his eyes flicked over the amber remnants. Chris was unraveling like a frayed hem. It was kind of exquisite. Maybe it was the whiskey talking but Peter was thinking that he was interested. At least a little bit. God he wanted to get out of here. He wanted to take Chris by the arm, or the hair, and pull him away and- Peter forced a sharp end to the thoughts. That was not going to end well. His eyes drifted to Chris' hair as he thought about digging his fingers into it. Might have been a bit short for what he actually wanted to accomplish. What a disappointment.  
>"You probably want to get checked in," Peter murmured, the first non-sexual thought that popped into his head. He winced internally. He didn't actually want Chris to leave, even if it was better for his mental health.<br>"Oh right," Chris said, straightening in his chair. He offered a small smile, glancing to the scarred bar for a moment. "I'd nearly forgotten." Peter wanted to slam his head against the bar. Instead he forced a smile.  
>"I could drive you." Chris smiled. His tongue dashed out across his lips, wetting them.<br>"You don't have to."  
>"It's no trouble." Chris' smile twitched before widening. Peter inhaled deeply through his nose. Definitely interested.<p>

Chris was getting high just on Peter's proximity. It was a heady thing, knowing he was within touching distance. Knowing if he just reached out… Mm. It was a nice thought.  
>"Should we go?" he questioned, mouth cottony. Peter offered a few folded bills to the bartender before nodding. He eased off his stool and paused, making sure Chris was following before going to the door. He held it for him again. Chris tried to ignore the tiny, ridiculous flip of his stomach. He made his way across the sidewalk, nearly stumbling over a crater in the concrete. Peter brushed against him when he paused and Chris' breath caught for a second. It was possible that he wasn't even on planet Earth anymore. "Are we um-are we just going to dance around this?" This mutual attraction. This if you don't touch me in the next five seconds I'm going to scream. Chris paused in the mouth of the alley and turned to face him. Time was limited. Now or never. Peter simply smiled. He waited a beat before stepping closer.<br>"What if I said I wasn't sure what you meant?" Chris huffed out an irritated breath. He leaned perilously closer, teasing Peter with the thought of a kiss. His reward was Peter's jaw slipping open. Mouth revealing a dark space of want.  
>"<em>That<em>," he said, enunciating carefully. He took a fast step back and turned into the alley, letting Peter make the decision. Pleasant surprise, warm in the cold night, swamped him when he didn't make it very far. Peter swung him into the wall, quickly replacing the emptiness with his body.  
>"Perhaps some clarification," he breathed. Chris might have managed an answer if Peter's mouth hadn't solidly prevented it. Thought process flickered and faded until Chris was purely warm and <em>here<em>. This moment. This connection. Unexpected. It made him feel alive. Peter pressed closer, hands settling on Chris' hips before pulling him up. Chris sighed into him, half of his last brain cell marveling over how strong Peter was. There was a faint itch in his brain. He ignored it. His back fitted to the wall as his hips fitted to Peter's. Peter's tongue was just teasing at the edges of his lips as his fingers moved onto his back. Chris arched, lips slipping open. Peter's hands moved again, sliding under his coat and shirt even as his tongue edged into the heat of Chris' mouth. A sound the likes Chris had never heard emitted from Peter. The next second he was on the ground, painfully cold. He gaped up at Peter, horrifically lost.

Peter curled his burnt hand in front of him, trying to catch his breathing. Rage swelled inside of him. One word repeated itself in his head. _Hunter_. How could he have been so foolish? He moved as Chris struggled to get up. Hands fisting in the wool of his collar he tugged him up. Peter let the change come over him. No more use in hiding.  
>"You're a hunter," he growled, teeth poking over his lips. Chris stared down at him, shock obvious. His hands on Peter's wrists fell slack.<br>"Good God, you're one of them." Peter growled again, this one much louder as it ripped out of his chest.  
>"Leave," he demanded, eyes glowing.<br>"I'm not here to kill," Chris responded, voice oddly low. Peter reached behind him, pulling out the gun and offering it.  
>"Expect me to believe you?" The silver was burning at his skin again. Chris must come from a long line to carry a silver gun. The thought made him sick. He tossed the gun away, placing his hand on the frigid brick.<br>"I'm only here for information." Peter dropped him gracelessly.  
>"Leave," he repeated. He yanked his keys from his pocket and went to the car. He unlocked it and threw Chris' bag out before the human had gained his feet.<br>"Wait," he called out. Peter damned himself, but he paused at the open door, looking back. Chris' expression looked pained. His lips flapped uselessly for a moment and he sighed. The sound of it echoed in Peter's ears. "Is there anything for me to report?" Peter's hand clenched in the door, denting it. He was asking if his family were killers. He was asking if he should bring more hunters.  
>"You would have been the perfect prey…would you not?" Chris didn't manage a reply. Peter told himself he didn't want one. He told himself this was nothing. Chris was nothing. A mistake. An evening lost. Nothing more.<p>

Chris told himself it was okay. He hadn't completely fucked over his entire life. There was no connection between them. The mere thought was ridiculous. He was ready to go home and settle down. He was ready to move on.

Neither man ever really believes the lies he tells himself.

_A/N: No. Okay. I don't know. Where this came from. I know I wanted to write them. And this little…_thing _popped into my head. So yeah._

_Obv AU. OOC galore. It's my creative license seeing as it was like…twenty years ago._

_It's another oneshot. I'm never going to stop apparently. u.u _


End file.
